


Let's Break it (just because we can)

by donchaeds



Series: the monster and the man - helliam/willry one shots collection [4]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Charismatic William, Codependency, Emotional Manipulation, Henry Emily suffers from Anxiety, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Porn With Plot, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Praise Kink, The author swears a lot, William Afton has no self awareness, William Afton has yet to reach is asshole potential, William Afton is still not a murderer, Young William wears Turtlenecks don't lie to me I've seen it, ah shit i almost forgot, an essay by mr afton himself, at its earliest stage, boys in the seventies trying to figure out gay sex, but at its lightest setting, direct references at past work, is it william thinking? is it me not shutting the hell up? who knows, the inherent omoeroticism of being someone's coping mechanism, the line between the author and William is blurred, they are in college, yes i'm talking about my Willry cinematic universe, young Henry Emily, young William Afton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27539728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donchaeds/pseuds/donchaeds
Summary: “Shit, Will –” the American man rolled his head back against the soft surface. Then, quieter: “it’s so good. So good”.William smirked to himself, deciding not to reply this time. He brought his left hand to Henry’s thigh, caressing it briefly, before eventually locking his palm on the underside of the young man’s knee and guiding the leg up to bend against Henry’s chest.There it is.Fuck. How did this work again?or: College William and Henry, before shit happened. This is legit the sweetest yet most psychologically charged thing I've ever written. Read it, it's really good.Alternatively titled: "10 pictures taken right before disaster"
Relationships: William Afton | Dave Miller & Henry Emily, William Afton | Dave Miller/Henry Emily
Series: the monster and the man - helliam/willry one shots collection [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987195
Comments: 27
Kudos: 97





	1. All you boys are not Him

"so... if we were to analyse the mechanics of said machines on a microscopical level, we would be able to accomplish remarkable results. As it's shown in the blueprint I've designed, we could find a way to open up to endless possibilities. Just like doctor Engelberger was able to access Devol's original work and improve it to use it on industrial scales, we could develop a technology that reacts to not only manual inputs, but even vocal commands or... motion triggers."

"That is, provided you are given the needed equipment, we assume?" 

Henry felt his entire face pulsating, with high chances it looked gleamy and red for anyone inspecting him from the outside. God he needed to keep it together, just a little more, just enough not to collapse into a breakdown in the middle of the speech. 

He swallowed, fixing the frames of his glasses up his nose with a sweaty hand.

"...yes, for the sake of the project, there's some specific materials that we would be needing in order to collect actual results, there is so much -"

"That's enough, Mr. Emily."

Henry stood there, lips still parted and chestnut eyes shining through that dreadful feeling that creeped inside his chest as every second went by. Eventually, he managed to nod, purse his lips, mouth a quick "thank you" and collecting his stuff to walk away. 

Shit, he'd ruined everything! Fuck. He felt himself speed up on the way up to the door, his breathing fast paced and almost too quick to actually collect enough oxygen for his cells to function. But he didn't fucking care, he needed to get out of there and secure himself in his room and hug his knees and sob his failure away for the following two hours.

"Henry"

He tried and failed to conceive his surprise, as well as a sniff, when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and make him stop in his tracks. 

"You did amazing, Henry, jesus! Did you see their faces?"

Oh. William. Henry had been so caught up in poorly managing his panicked reaction that he'd forgotten about him completely. It was never a good sign when he did. It meant he had it exceptionally bad.

He didn't register William's eyes snapping wider and more serious than they'd been a second before, wheels turning behind them as he took in Henry’s state of mind and interpreted his actions carefully, one at a time.

Henry’s body was springing in his place, eager to leave the room. Eyes glossy and vague, he was desperately trying to keep his emotions locked in for as long as he had to endure the public display of weakness, neck and cheeks red and warm, gleaming in a thin layer of nervous sweat. William had seen this before.

“Let’s get you to the dorms, shall we?” he exhaled, receiving but a weak, yet frantic nod in reply.

Henry Emily was a peculiar human being, he had had the chance to find out for himself. An introvert, definitely; but it wasn’t just that. He was constantly aware of the space he filled, ever so careful not to smudge the line that confined it, blending in with his surroundings but standing out in his own lonely reality. William had laid his eyes upon him on one of his first days there, during a painfully long class about business laws and regulations. Henry had caught his attention immediately.

He’d been sitting at his desk in one of the back rows, head lowered on what seemed like messy sketches and notes, tugging at the side of his hair with his free, right hand, eyes focused and oddly perceptive, yet trained to ignore whatever happened outside of his personal space on purpose, like he wanted them to. To someone he might have looked like an unfocused kid wasting his time during a boring class, but William had known the second he’d seen him: he was listening, attentively. He was learning as he drew.

He’d sat right next to him, letting his body fall limp onto the chair he’d picked and observing him. He’d known the boy might have noticed that, because his hand had stopped sketching for a fraction of second and his breath had mirrored it soon after, only for the both of those to resume immediately. For the following twenty minutes, William had noticed the young man’s pupils fighting to tear away from the sketched paper and finally confront the person that had been staring at him for that long, but Henry had somehow managed not to. Waiting for him to actively enter his space, rather than letting himself be lured outside. So very perceptive.

Americans were boring, William had soon found out. Scratch that, actually. All people were. Always so lame and shallow, thinking they were so complex and worthy of admiration for having a fixed moral code and wrapping their emotions all around it, basing their nature on something so artificial. This young man, on the other hand, was not. He gave off a vibe of self-awareness that William hadn’t been able to ignore.

So William had done what he knew best, and had talked his way into Henry’s life.

“Do you want to talk about it?” William was now asking, shutting the door to their – well, _his_ , technically, since Henry didn’t really need one as he lived within the city –dorm’s room behind them and wrapping an arm around Henry’s waist in a comforting ( _possessive_ ) way. Henry was shaking, urging his eyes not to spill and his body not to give in to the urge of collapsing to the floor. He shook his head, a motion so quick it almost went unnoticed, and carried himself to the side of William’s bed, sitting on the very edge. A few, tense second passed, with William hovering over Henry’s stiff features without taking a seat himself, prepared for the predictable next movement.

Henry sniffed; let his eyes wander around the whole room, blinking excessively as he did so. Then, his mouth broke into a pained smile and he burst into tears before he even managed to say anything.

Henry, William had been able to realize over time, was an extremely sensitive individual. It probably came with the “perceptive” character trait.

He wasn’t, however, too good at reading people’s emotions, not as he was at detecting a change in their behaviour, or a quick gaze that was laid upon him. He saw too much, heard too much, remembered too much, and deciphered too little of everything. William couldn’t possibly imagine how it would feel not to vivisection people’s thoughts, minds, and intentions the moment they walked into a room. But he was aware his abilities weren’t common. Henry’s weren’t either, and that’s what most fascinated him about the man. William had read so many people from so many places, and had found all of them extremely similar. Henry was his first exception, his thought process differing from any he’d been able to observe in the past. William found himself constantly wishing to dig into his mind and understand it fully.

And there was more of that; Henry was brilliant, smart, resourceful. He was passionate about everything that interested him and he had the kindest heart William had ever managed to know. This last trait shook him to the core, and fascinated him the best, to his own surprise. Most of Henry’s characteristics and resources were stunningly exploitable, and William was going to make use of each and every one of them. The latter, however, wasn’t as practical as the others, and resembled too much that set of artificially crafted traits that humans had assigned themselves in order to complicate their lives. William had had the opportunity to form his own opinions on the topic, and had found himself often twistedly pleased to find that he hadn’t been wrong. Henry, however, didn’t apply to that standard. He genuinely cared. He genuinely loved. He seemed immune to that humane state of corruption.

(Or he had yet to be corrupted.)

Either way, William knew already what was going on now. Henry had been nervous, in that way only a deeply insecure soul like his – another one of his traits – could manage to be. His receptive mind had started responding to external signals, collecting them without processing them, and he’d started misinterpreting them in favour of his insecurities, fuelling his destructive thoughts and eventually leading to that unmotivated breakdown he was having.

Another thing William knew about Henry was what he exactly needed in moments like this. He’s not to credit his observant mind for that now, though, as much as he’s to credit lucky fate and Henry’s affection-starved personality. They’d been working on a project together, before they actually had gotten to know each other, when Henry had had one of these recurring episodes. William had happened to be there, offering his consoling, grounding him by touching his hands, caressing his hair, accepting his forehead against his own shoulder. And that had been the moment William had realized that Henry had been passively accepting those episodes as part of his life until then. He didn’t have his own form of coping.

Now, out of sheer luck, his form of coping had been following him around for months out of nothing but fascinated curiosity. His form of coping was right in the room with him.

His form of coping was William.

So, William did what he knew would easily help, and walked to the edge of his own bed, taking Henry’s head in his arms and having it rest against his stomach as he sobbed and sniffed and let it all out.

That knowledge had significantly changed William’s approach to whatever the relationship with this awkward boy had been until then. When he found himself in his dorm room, alone, his thoughts would start trailing back to the way Henry had clung to him for comfort and safety. The way William’s sole presence had been able to steady his breathing, soften his sobs, placate his shaking. The way William’s fingers in his hair had managed to draw soft whimpers of gratitude from Henry’s trembling lips, until the latter finally gained his ability to talk properly back and profusely thanked him with his words, asking for his forgiveness and silently begging for his company.

Now, William was not an expert in human psychology and panic attacks, but he wasn’t an idiot either. He could easily take a wild guess and understand that being someone else’s coping mechanism would not be of any help, in the long run, for both parties involved. But, fuck, okay, that feeling had been absolutely addictive. Being the carrier of someone else’s sanity, their grip on reality. Even better, Henry’s grip on reality. Beautiful Henry with a beautiful mind and in desperate need for someone to shake him out of his shell of insecurity to make something incredible out of what he hid inside. Besides, it’s not like William was planning to leave Henry alone anytime soon. So what if the young man were to accidentally grow dependant on him? William didn’t have control on Henry’s mind and actions, after all. If the sweet boy were to grow dependant on him, that was entirely on him. And William was no one to avoid the process or sabotage it.

That night, William had come in his fist with the image of Henry’s clingy body against his. The morning after, he settled for not questioning it. He never questioned anything he – his mind or his body – decided to do.

A week after that, he’d started doing it on purpose.

He has yet to find any real reason to stop.

Henry was now sobbing against his stomach, laboured breath ever so slowly evening out, hands shaking around William’s waist as they tugged at the dark red fabric of the turtleneck the latter was wearing. William ever so carefully kept carding his fingers in Henry’s chestnut coloured bangs, silently wishing he could let his own blue, silver-ish eyes bore into Henry’s honey-like ones through the thick lenses that protected them but that were now pressing against Henry’s nose bridge and William’s torso where they were trapped. He sighed, and kept caressing the other young man’s scalp. They stayed like that, no talking, only gentle touching, for almost half an hour; Henry slowly peeling off his layered anxieties in William’s arms, William taking in the sweet sighs that Henry produced. They fit together so well it was almost funny, William found himself thinking a second before Henry’s grip on his shirt loosened and his head finally rose from William’s stomach.

The man on his feet smiled at him, reassuringly, as the former went to finally meet his friend’s gaze in a silent ‘thank you’. William didn’t stop caressing Henry’s hair, but still got the message that the man was ready to talk and settled for addressing his episode.

“I don’t know what you saw, Henry, but I can assure you you did amazing back there. I loved every second of your presentation.”

Henry averted his gaze for a moment. “That’s very different from what I saw”, he said softly.

“I know” William complied, taking Henry’s chin in his hand. “But your mind was lying to you.” _You can’t even trust your own mind, Henry. What would you even do without me?_ “Because what I saw was a group of grown ass men awing at your presentation, burning in pure envy and absolutely willing to finance your research – our research – to favour the University’s name. And I saw a brilliant, passionate man standing in front of them and proving his point with a flawless explanation of his plans and a confidence he didn’t even realize he had in him.”

He smiled at him, eyes shining with real, honest admiration. Then he turned his smile into a teasing grin. “And a pretty one, nonetheless.”

“Oh my god shut up”, Henry rolled his eyes at him, poorly concealing a genuine laugh that eventually climbed up his throat and rang out of his mouth in amusement. His cheeks were flushed pink, however, William was quick to notice. That wasn’t the first time he elicited such a reaction out of him.

William trusted his common sense more than he did anyone, and he trusted his impulses even more. In fact, he himself can’t quite pinpoint where the line stands between the two things. If there were one, it must have been incredibly blurred and smudged. So if his brain told him to “go talk to that person, they might be of use”, he went and did so just fine. If his guts suggested he should let the sweet boy cling to him against his psychological safety, then so be it. If his mind decided it would be fun and harmless to playfully flirt with said boy for no reason other than to relish in his flustered looks and horror filled eyes at the realization of what that might entail, who was him to deny himself that pleasure?

…so when he looked at Henry and pretended to misunderstand Henry’s flustered attitude for another display of anxious concern at the presentation he had given earlier,

“you are overreacting, darling, relax”, he said in a soothing tone, reaching once more for Henry’s face and carding his fingers through the messy bangs that fell on his eyes.

“The examiners were amused by your work. Why don’t you let me help you switch that smart brain off for once?”


	2. love me harder and don't be nice, please

Henry looked up at him, a rush of concealed confusion filling his features and eyes, now narrowed. “Will, what do you…” he started, not really sure what to do with that draft of a sentence.

“Hush, baby, you are always so fucking tense.”

William carried his hand to slide down from Henry’s chin, to the side of his neck and grazing underneath the collar of his sweater. The shorter man was following the motion with his widened eyes, which were now alternating between staring at William’s wandering hand and seeking answer in the man’s irises. He shivered at the man’s words, lips parting in a questioning manner as he reached for the hand resting on his shoulder and stopped his movement, finally opting for fixing his eyes into William’s.

William could see thoughts and questions crossing Henry’s head and popping like balloons as soon as they became too many. Questions that concerned him, society, but mostly Henry himself. William could read it in his eyes as clear as water: Henry was going to want this, although he had no idea why. The truth likely fell somewhere between “Henry is so bad at impulses he never even caught himself staring too long at William’s hands and shoulders and eyes and going crimson at his praises” and “William has trained him so well to react positively to his touch that it doesn’t even feel wrong anymore”. The line was too blurred now to make a distinction between Henry’s nature and William’s influence on him anyway. He _was_ going to want this.

Henry let go of his hand just like he’d grabbed it a few instants before, shutting his lips closed and weakly nodding at William to proceed and do his thing.

“Good boy”, the latter smirked, and slipped his fingers underneath Henry’s sweater once more, earning himself a shiver from the man sitting in front of him.

William adjusted his position, placing his knees to trap Henry’s legs against the bed sheets and leaning forward to caress his freckle-sprinkled collarbone with his own lips. He relished in Henry’s soft whimper and kissed his skin once more. His hands found their way to the bottom of the young man’s sweater, tugging at it to slide it off Henry’s torso. The latter immediately complied, lifting both his arms for William to strip him before he even realized what he was doing.

“Fuck, you know I do mean it when I say that, right?” the taller man found himself asking as he stared down at Henry’s half-naked body. Henry’s face heated up under his stare. “You are so pretty, Henry. Shit. You’re precious”, _you’re mine, you are so very mine_ , he tentatively placed his mouth over one of Henry’s nipples, just because he felt like doing it. Shit, he’d never thought about this, had he?

He had figured Henry held this sort of pull over him that he couldn’t seem to, _but also didn’t want to_ shake. He’d realized this thing had turned into some form of sexual arousal when Henry had started growing dependant on him, being so trustful and vulnerable and pliant in his hands. But had he actually fantasized about his body? Had he considered the possibility of claiming _it_ , as well as _him_? William wasn’t quite sure. What he knew was that he was now, and that he was going to wing his way through it.

So he did. He wrapped his lips around Henry’s closest nipple and sucked on it as if his life depended on it, savouring its taste on his tongue.

“William oh my god oh my – a _h_ ”

Shit, was that a moan? Had Henry just moaned because of him? Fuck, this is gold. He found himself smirking around the pink tissue of flesh, grazing his teeth against it and gaining another strained sound from the man's sinful mouth, one that resembled a hiss of both sting and pleasure. It drove him crazy. It was addictive. William had found himself developing one too many addiction every day he spent with this exquisite mess of a boy, and he was living for it.

He parted from the smooth chest he was basically bent over, watching a trail of spit thinning all the way from his mouth to Henry's red, plump nipple.

"Shit" he breathed in, mostly to himself. "Feels good, darling?"

He interlocked his gaze with Henry's, who had been staring at the top of William's hair, dumbfounded, through most of the thing.

"yes" the man replied. "How did you know it would?"

William brought a hand to caress Henry's fringe, seeking his own reflection in those gorgeous eyes - _right where it should be_ \- and bringing his left hand to Henry's neglected nipple, slowly circling it with his thumb and drawing another charged whimper from the man's lips.

"I didn't", he easily replied. He did now. And, fuck, he was going to remember that.

Henry moaned brokenly at a tentative flick of William's thumb that had his nail sinking into Henry's skin. _Whore,_ the taller man found himself thinking, for no actual reason, but he had it sending a shiver down his spine. _Mine_.

He found himself suddenly enraptured by Henry’s body, the shape of his shoulders and chest and stomach, the way it tightened around the waist and slightly widened around the hips. He brought both his hands to the man’s waistline and wrapped his fingers around its sides. Such a small little body, he could see himself breaking bones if he pushed too hard.

_Woah, what the fuck_. Okay.

“Love, lay down for me, will you?” he heard himself asking, placing both his palms on Henry’s shoulders and having him lying flat against his own mattress, completely exposed from the waist up. Henry gasped at the sudden motion, but let William manhandle his body in whatever position he pleased nonetheless. It’s not like he had any idea what they were doing, so the best he could do was to simply be pliant and take what he was given. And hopefully not be such a disappointment.

“Henry I can hear you thinking from up here” William interrupted his nervous train of thought.

“I… I don’t know what to do” Henry replied honestly, staring into his friend’s eyes like a beaten puppy.

“Do you want to do something in particular?” William tilted his head to the side, questioningly. Playfully challenging.

Henry tucked his head in his shoulders. “I want to please you.”

William felt his entire mouth stir into a grin. “You will be soon, baby. Besides –” he pretended to ignore Henry’s cheeks flushing the sweetest shade of red at the pet name, “I’m doing this for you, aren’t I? To help you loosen up.” The other man nodded, not quite convinced. To which William added: “It seems I’ll have to try way harder than that.”

The taller man dragged himself to stand over Henry, once again placing himself above him with his knees on the mattress. Before he leaned down to join Henry’s body, however, he went to unbuckle his own jeans and untuck the red turtleneck from the waistband, getting rid of that piece of clothing altogether. He let his hands linger on his waist for one too many seconds, relishing in Henry’s quiet gasp before he actually went and acknowledged his presence underneath him once more.

He did, eventually. He leaned down and circled his entire body with his own, and started kissing his way down Henry’s pearly white neck, to the middle of his chest and around both his nipples. Teasing without acknowledging. Just because he could.

He let both his eyes snap wide open when he felt Henry’s hands tangling behind his neck and urging him to stop his sick little game. His mouth agape, he let out a surprised chuckle.

“Will, please” Henry complained – no, he whined, still tugging at William’s neck to try and lead him against one of his nipples. _Shit, you are so hot, you are such a fucking_

“slut”, was what William said, out loud. “Is this not enough for you, Henry?”

He trailed his hands to the sides of Henry’s torso as he spoke, slowly caressing them, sometimes stopping to tentatively grab at the flesh there and pull to claim it under his touch. Henry was frantically, feverishly shaking his head ‘no’, his hips struggling to lift from the mattress to seek contact against William’s body. “It’s not” he replied, staring down at where his friend was touching his skin. “It’s not, Will, please, do something. Anything.”

William seemed to ponder the offer, rolling his pupils to the side of his face and slowly licking his lips in a display of concentration. Then, he moved his hands against the sides of Henry’s body once more, gently stopping at the height of Henry’s small waist just like he had a few minutes before. Fuck, so _small_. He grabbed at it possessively.

“How about we try and see if this tight little body of yours can take me?”

Henry’s heavy breathing stopped, eyes widening at William, every part of him pondering. "Have you ever..."

"No", William immediately replied.

"Me neither". They stared at each other in silence.

"…do you want to?"

Henry looked down at his own body again. At the way his friend held it, and the way his hands and eyes worshipped it.

He fluttered his eyes back up at William.

"Please", he nodded, wrapping his arms around William’s neck and parting his legs for no reason other than to invite him between them.

William let his eyes briefly trail over Henry’s entire silhouette.

“Fuck. Okay.” He reached for Henry’s jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them off his legs in a stiff motion, exposing all of that flesh under the raw fabric. Henry whimpered softly, feeling William’s cold hands traveling down his skin until all he was still wearing was that light pair of boxers he’d worn after his shower that morning, and nothing fucking else. And then William had hissed, and gotten rid of that as well, and Henry had found himself shivering on full display on his friend’s mattress with said friend, said _very male_ friend, hovering over him with nothing but his own jeans on.

William’s eyes were on him, inspecting him – better yet, devouring him, as they took in the sight of his naked body and reached to touch it, experimentally. The upside of this whole thing was that they both knew, roughly, how their anatomy worked, and that spared William from a lot of thinking he would have otherwise had to go through. So he just winged it, as he’d decided to do in the first place. He reached for Henry’s length, wrapping his fist around it – stopped to savour Henry’s fastened breathing – and started slowly stroking him from the base up to his head, and back.

“Shit, Will –” the American man rolled his head back against the soft surface. Then, quieter: “it’s so good. So good”.

William smirked to himself, deciding not to reply this time. He brought his left hand to Henry’s thigh, caressing it briefly, before eventually locking his palm on the underside of the young man’s knee and guiding the leg up to bend against Henry’s chest.

_There it is._

Fuck. How did this work again?

Whatever.

He made it so that his right hand left Henry’s erection and brought it to tentatively poke at that puckered entrance that he had on full display now. Henry’s body was shaken entirely by what he had perceived as a sudden action.

“ _OH_ fuck, okay. Right. Sorry”, he immediately apologized, stilling himself in place and digging his hands into the sheets underneath them. “It’s just weird.”

“It is”, William agreed. He reached for the crack between Henry’s thighs once more, grazing at the skin with his fingernails. When he obtained nothing but a soft hiss from Henry, he experimentally thumbed at it. Lightly at first, then applying more pressure.

He held his breath, mesmerized, as he observed the tip of his thumb disappear from sight. Henry whined. He shrugged it off, pressed deeper. Saw Henry’s body swallowing his thumb to the knuckle and smiled to himself.

He retracted his hand, which parted from Henry’s flesh with a choked “pop” that had him shivering and Henry whimpering at the loss of contact.

“What are you - ”

“Shut up. I got this.”

William stood on his knees, brought his hand to his mouth and mechanically stuff three of his fingers inside of it, coating it in his spit. Henry held his breath at the sight, but followed the instructions he was given and shut the hell up as he waited.

It didn’t take much, anyway, because after a bunch of seconds William had brought his now wet hand back to where it had been before and was grazing Henry’s sweet entrance with his index finger. And he just – dipped it in, to the first knuckle, then the second. _Fuck_. This was warm. He twisted his finger around itself, slightly digging deeper as he did so. Henry hissed, but remained otherwise quiet. His breathing was unsteady, but not dangerously so, which led William to slowly pull his finger out and push it back along with his middle one, twisting both of them in to the last knuckle.

“William, fucking – ” Henry choked back a gasp at the sudden movement, knees shaking and body clenching around William’s digits. The latter still sported that smug look on his face, the face of someone who’d cracked the code and was going to brag about it for forever. He started confidently pushing his fingers in and out of Henry, relishing in the man’s laboured breaths and whimpers and soft groans. “Does it still feel weird?” he asked in a genuinely curious tone.

Henry took his sweet time to reply. “Yes,” he nodded along with his words, fists still painfully grabbing the sheets. “but not a bad weird. It… It just burns when you do – ow, fuck, Will! – when you do _that_!”

William chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “When I do what, darling?”, and he proceeded to scissor his fingers into Henry once more, stretching his walls around him like the bastard he was.

“Asshole” Henry whispered, only partly faking his annoyance.

“Observant as always”, William replied. The man lying in front of him rolled his eyes backwards painfully, opting for eventually giving him the silent treatment. So the British man went along with it, and shut his mouth as he worked to open Henry up around him, patiently.

He grew bored soon. Decided to push a third finger inside, for good measure. Ignored Henry’s hiss at the stretch, tried and adjusted his digits to fit together, changed the angle -

“aah, WILL - ! ”

Well, fucking shit. If William hadn’t been painfully hard before… Henry had just moaned. _Sinfully_. Out of sheer pleasure.

Henry’s hands left the mattress, reaching for the man hovering over him, one of them successfully managing to grab William’s free wrist and tug at it. “William, for fuck’s sake – do it again. Please. Do that once more.”

William furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand what he had exactly done. He moved his fingers around, poking at Henry’s walls almost professionally, seeking to elicit a similar reaction to the first one. He twisted his digits inside of that shaking mess of a man and curled them upwards until –

“ _yes_!” Henry almost cried, shouting as relief and pleasure trailed through his entire body. “Thank you”, he muttered, mind dizzy, like the sweet polite man he was.

“Anytime, darling”, William replied, and repeated that exact motion once more. He felt Henry clenching painfully around him and decided he’d had enough. He abruptly removed all three of his fingers from inside of Henry and moved to stand from the bed. Henry had almost shouted from the sudden feeling of emptiness, as well as the burn that the harsh motion had created, but William couldn’t care any less. Not until he finally managed to get rid of his fucking trousers and briefs and settle himself back between Henry’s soft, shaking legs.

He was breathing through his mouth, one of his hands firmly pressing into Henry’s thigh as he worked to line himself up with the man under him. He had the tip of his erection graze against the crack of Henry’s cheeks and hissed when he finally felt himself be sucked in by that sweet tightness to the first inch.

"Fuck", he muttered under his breath. This felt heavenly. Why had he been waiting so long again?

"Yes - " Henry found himself whimpering, agreeing. William's gaze finally rose to his face, and was immensely pleased to find it scarlet all over, hair messily stuck to his forehead, eyes shut tight and lips slightly parted, shaking and gleaming. Fuck, he wanted to dig his teeth into those. He was going to, eventually. First, he needed to fuck some chill into his favourite person like he'd promised he would in the first place. 

He clenched his teeth together, adjusted his knees against the soft surface and pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking into Henry's tight warmth, inch by inch, until he was basically buried deep inside of him. Fuck, it was almost painful. Greedy little thing, swallowing him up to the base. William cursed under his breath, narrowing his eyes as he adjusted to the feeling that engulfed him.

"...Will, it's - "

Henry's shaking voice reached his ears, sweet as warm honey. His entire body was a trembling mess, fighting against itself in order to adjust to William's presence and accept it like he wanted to. "Fuck. So _full_."

William slowly dragged his hips backwards, carefully sliding out of Henry's body. Henry whined, and instinctively went to wrap his arms around the taller man's neck. That had William softly chuckling. "I'm not going anywhere, Henry." He went to caress Henry's bangs with his right hand, comfortingly - the movement had his body shifting downwards and cause the slightest amount of friction inside Henry's walls. One that earned him a sharp whimper and a silent plea.

_Just. Shut up. I’m going to. For fuck’s sake._

He gritted his teeth and snapped his hips back in, fighting the friction in order to slide all the way back inside in one swift movement.

“Shit! Fuck. Burns – ” Henry’s hold on his friend’s shoulders tightened. _Good_. William withdrew once more, once again digging his way back into Henry’s body soon after. The slow pace was agonizing, but he needed to play his cards right. But, hell, the breathy sounds and shaky moans that Henry was producing were too fucking addictive. He needed to pound into him, right fucking now. Fuck. So fucking _tight_.

He rolled his hips around, slightly changing the angle, and firmly held Henry’s right leg pressed against his chest. He couldn’t help a small grin from forming when he caught the sight of the tense rim of muscles that was wrapping around his length.

Eventually, he inhaled deeply and found himself sinking back into Henry, making a point to aim upwards and graze at Henry’s walls from the inside as he did so.

When his friend let out an abrupt, broken moan that had him shaking all over under William’s body, he knew he’d won. The pain wasn’t going to be an issue anymore. It would have taken so much more effort for Henry to tell it apart from the sheer pleasure.

So William did it again, once, twice, his movements growing slightly faster and harder every second, getting Henry accustomed, no, _hooked_ to the feeling, until he himself was the one begging William to go “faster, harder, deeper, please” in that whiny tone of his.

The taller man took a hold of both Henry’s legs, adjusting them around his hips to gain even better access, and started fucking his way into Henry’s lithe body at a relentless, almost punishing pace, getting himself swallowed deep inside him every time he did so.

Henry was panting, writhing under and around him, voice occasionally cracking as he held on to William’s shoulders for sweet sanity. William had his mind floating, then being dragged back on Earth at his every movement, and shit, he wasn’t going to complain. It felt oddly grounding, and immensely releasing.

He parted his lips to tell him, but William’s mouth was immediately on his. Oh. _Oh_. Okay.

Remember when William had decided he would be digging his teeth through the flesh of Henry’s sweet lips very soon?

Yeah, he was going to do this now. Henry’s plump, cherry red lips, too fucking tempting to ignore now that they were releasing those sharp little moans because of what William was doing. Those sounds _belonged_ to him. Hell, Henry’s entire being belonged to him. He was going to mark those lips, kissing his way through them and claiming the inside of Henry’s mouth with his tongue, and then he was going to draw blood from those same lips, to remind them of who their real owner was.

So he did, and relished in every sound Henry decided to gift him with throughout the process. Those sweet little pants, some whines, moans, a sudden rueful cry that William made sure to suffocate with his own mouth after he got a taste of Henry’s blood on his tongue.

He eventually parted from Henry’s mouth, sitting up to adjust and set an even more punishing pace. He sat both his hands at the sides of Henry’s waist, leveraging on it to hit the man’s spot dead on every single time he snapped his hips against his thighs. He was exceptionally pleased by the fact that Henry hadn’t questioned any of his actions, nor had complained about the pain. _A resilient one_ , he found himself thinking. _Or maybe you like it. Do you like the pain, Henry?_

He caught a laugh from erupting from his throat when that thought crossed his mind. How sinful would that be, wouldn’t it? Getting off on your own pain. Still, William had met many people who found comfort in their own suffering. He wouldn’t be surprised to find that was a thing that could apply to sex too, as well as everything else.

Fuck, he was going to find out. Some part of him had already decided he was.

His hold on Henry’s waist had grown increasingly harsher on the flesh that his hands covered - it had as he thought about all of _that_ \- but he had yet to notice. He was going to, eventually, when the sign of purple bruises would be replacing the spots where his fingertips were digging into right then. And boy, was he going to be pleased by the sight.

Not now, though. Right now, he was looking at Henry’s face, one that looked immensely relaxed by the intense pleasure, and thinking of how he was going to always want him that way. Pliant, wrecked, accepting, under him, wanting it just as much as William did. William was going to be the only source of pleasure, pain, confidence, certainty, comfort Henry was going to have from that moment on. Oh, William would make fucking _sure_ of it.

He thought so, anyway, as he wrapped one of his hands around Henry’s leaking length and started stroking it harshly, rhythm matching the one of his own cock fucking into Henry’s body.

“Holy – Yes, Will, fuck. Please” Henry started begging for release. A dumb plea, because there was no way William was going to stop now, but fuck, he didn’t reject it either. Henry begging was definitely going on the list of addictive things about the man.

“Yes, baby? Want to come?”

“yes!”

William had his wrist shifting, for the fist wrapping around Henry to twist around his length and draw out a soft yelp out of him. His grin was painfully wide on his face.

He didn’t need to say anything, because a few seconds later Henry was coming into his fist and onto his own stomach, the intense feeling having him moaning and shaking and _clenching_ around William until William himself was spilling into Henry’s sweet body, filling him to the fucking brim.

Shit, it took him all of his strength not to collapse on Henry right there and then. He was panting, the ghost of a grin still very evident on his face, almost hypnotized by the whole thing. As if he was only then acknowledging.

Why the _fuck_ hadn’t he done this sooner?

“Will…” Henry whined from under him, prompting him to snap out of his questioning state and to reluctantly pull out of Henry’s body. “ _Shit_ ”, he heard Henry hissing, the sudden feeling of emptiness getting to him, as well as the one of come leaking out of him right after.

“Henry”, William replied tiredly, letting himself fall limp beside Henry on his own mattress. Oh my _god_. This felt unreal. And it was priceless.

Henry must have been thinking the same thing, because soon his soft laugh was ringing through the room, voice wrecked but still incredibly high and pleased. _Sweet_ , William thought. _Mine_. Eventually, Henry’s laugh turned into a shaky, satisfied breath.

“So… is this going to –”

“Oh, absolutely”

They stared at each other, smiling and blushing and grinning and laughing.

It sure was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm both so soft and soo hard for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 is coming once I'm showered in praise. See the praise kink tag in the tag section? That's about me.


End file.
